


A Holiday for Two

by OlicitySmoaky



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternative Universe - No Island, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, OSS2017, Olicity Secret Santa 2017, olicity christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 01:04:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13135911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlicitySmoaky/pseuds/OlicitySmoaky
Summary: A lonely Felicity gets a little holiday baking help from her new neighbor.





	A Holiday for Two

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, my beautiful fandom! This one's for @the-silverforked-sky aka Sim! I can't wait to read all the other Secret Santa fics. 
> 
> Thank you for organizing Kathi, Mare, and Carol!

**__ **

 

**_Thanksgiving Day, 2012_ **

At the age of twenty-three, Felicity knew two things: that she was the best at what she did and what she did did not include cooking. This was why on that chilly third Thursday of November she was so incredibly grateful that Big Belly Burger did not close until 3pm.

She ordered a mini-belly buster, chili cheese fries and a diet coke. At the last second, she tacked on an apple pie with a side of whipped cream. She planned to eat that a little later along with the ice cream and red wine she had in her apartment. It was after all a day for food splurging.

Halfway down her apartment hallway, white paper sacks swinging from her curled fists ( _and_ balancing her soda), she spotted what she might refer to as a Greek god in human clothing if she hadn’t been put off by the cheap looking girl attached to his elbow. Unfortunately, she had to pass them to get to her apartment at the end of the hall. She kept her eyes trained ahead, quickening her step a bit. She heard the girl with the Greek god giggle hard. She held back the urge to roll her eyes when all of a sudden, she felt a bony shoulder knocking into her, causing her to drop one of her bags as she worked to save her drink. Napkins and ketchup spilled out but luckily the food stayed inside. She fell to her knees to gather her fallen items, when she heard a smooth voice murmur beside her, “Let me help.”

She blushed and didn’t look at him. “I got it. Thanks.” Felicity’s blonde hair fell in her eyes; why hadn’t she worn it up like usual? It made her feel more flustered not being able to see through it. When she was mostly certain she’d gathered everything, she stood.

“We didn’t mean to knock over your… dinner.”

Felicity looked up and met a pair of gorgeous blue eyes. Was he staring? No. Yes. He wasn’t blinking. Was he blinking?  She heard the girl beside him cluck her tongue. “Ollie, let’s _go_.”

“Sorry, Jenna,” he said, looking back at his companion before turning back to Felicity. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” said Felicity. “Happy Thanksgiving.” She left them and hurried to her apartment. She shut the door promptly behind her and glanced around the cozy little space she called home. “Time for Thanksgiving for one.” She kicked off her shoes, willing herself to forget about the blue eyes on the handsome face she’d seen outside. It wouldn’t be too hard. She knew she’d never see him again. And if she did, they wouldn’t speak. He’d just be handsome neighbor guy who she maybe waved at from time-to-time. That worked for her. It kept her loner status in check. Not that she liked being alone all the time, but she could handle it. She was happy – for the most part.

_A holiday for one wasn’t all that bad._

As soon as her Big Belly meal was decoratively plated, and her table was set, a knock on her front door filled the room. She groaned. Her food was going to get cold. She stole a taste of her burger – _grease-filled bliss_ – then got up. She opened the door to find the guy from earlier standing their wearing a sheepish grin, holding up a straw.

“You, uh, dropped your straw earlier.” Had she heard him right? Of course, she had. He was holding up the evidence. Maybe she’d fallen asleep on the sofa, and this was some sort of strange dream.

“Okay,” she replied, pulling it from his fingers. “You came by to give me a straw?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes take out soda’s better when you sip it through the straw. Not that I do take out much, but--”

“Thanks,” said Felicity, wanting to close the door but for some reason not moving an inch.

He looked over her shoulder at her dining table. “So, you’re eating Big Belly Burger on Thanksgiving?”

She shifted uncomfortably. “Trying to anyway. Thanks for noticing.”

“I wasn’t judging. I just… Never mind. I’m sorry. I just thought you might like your…” He gestured to her hand.

“Straw?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s okay. I’m not feeling lonely or anything.”

“I’d invite you to our place, but…”

“We just met.”

“That and I’m off to the Thanksgiving from hell with my family.”

“At least you have your girlfriend to protect you.”

A bewildered look colored his features before he replied, “Oh, she’s not coming. And she’s…just a friend.”

A very friendly friend from the looks of it, but that was none of her business. “Okay. Well, my food is getting cold, so…”

“Sure, sure,” he said. Before she could shut the door, he held out his hand. “Um, I’m Oliver, by the way. I’m just down the hall most days. New to the building.”

She smiled at the warmth in his eyes, and for the first time since she’d seen him in the hallway, she completely relaxed. “Felicity.” She shook his hand. Her stomach swooped at the touch then it was over. 

“Nice to meet you, Felicity, and Happy Thanksgiving.” He opened his mouth to say more, but no sound came out. And then he was gone, and Felicity was alone again.

***

Not so many weeks later, Felicity sat in her tiny excuse for an office in the back of the IT department at Queen Consolidated working out an algorithm no one else in the department seemed to be able to master. She’d been out-performing everyone she worked with in the eleven months since they’d lured her away from her job at Kord Industries. She was up for annual review in January and was hoping for a promotion or at least a good salary bump.

“Christmas party sign up,” a young securities analyst named Byron popped his head in without knocking.

“I’m Jewish,” she said almost as a reflex. What she really felt like saying was go away, can’t you see I’m busy? She was just about done.

“Oh. Sorry,” said Byron. “It says holiday party actually. But it’s on Christmas Eve. Monday, then we’re home free for an entire week.”

Felicity clicked a few more keys on her computer. “One sec.” She almost had this. Yes! “Who’s awesome? I am. That’s who.” She looked up at Byron with an apologetic smile. “Sorry for snapping.”

“Since you’re normally a ray of sunshine, you’re forgiven,” Byron quipped.

Felicity held out her hand to take the clipboard. “Is it mandatory?”

“If you want to get promoted, you better bring something good. Better yet, homemade.”

What? He was kidding. She clocked his expression. Nope. He was _not_ kidding. “Homemade? You mean like cook something? QC’s not catering it?”

“It’s the department party, so no.”

Felicity’s stomach twisted. She had to find someone to do it for her. She might poison people if she actually did the baking. But who could she ask? She hadn’t made any friends outside of work since moving to Starling. 

“What should I put you down for?” Bryon's eyebrows sat perched high and expectant. 

Felicity sank her teeth into her lower lip. “I don’t know.”

“Cookies or cupcakes. Hank loves either,” Byron informed her. Hank was their supervisor. He’d be the one doing her evals. But her performance in the kitchen should have zero to do with her work, right?

“Put me down for cookies. No cupcakes. No… I don’t know.”

“I’ll put either or,” Byron said, pulling the clipboard out of Felicity’s hands and scribbling it down for her. “Surprise us,” he said, turning to head out.

“I’ll be surprising you all right,” Felicity muttered to herself.

“Remember. Don’t do store bought,” Byron advised as he slipped into the hallway. “Hank’ll know.”

Felicity sighed. “Just perfect.”

***

**_December 23, 2012_ **

That Sunday afternoon, as snow flurries tickled her frost-bitten third floor kitchen window, Felicity broke into a sweat. Part of it was from over-exertion. And part of it was from the smoke billowing coming from the oven. “No! I was paying attention this time.” How could a certified genius muck up cookie baking this badly? She pulled out the hard as stone nearly blackened sugar cookies. She’d made an earlier batch that was somewhat edible, but she wanted them to be perfect. Sadly, since that mediocre victory, the rest of her cookies had taken a turn for the worse. _Frak!_ Now the alarm was squealing from just outside the kitchen door. She opened her window, stung by the cold air as it whipped inside. “Just a couple minutes open for you. Not planning on building a snowman in the middle of my kitchen floor.”

The alarm was still screeching. She yanked it from its perch on the wall to shut it up before moving into the living room. She’d put it back as soon as she cleared the smoke, which was still lingering all around her. She flung open the front door. “I really need friends who bake.”

“I bake,” a deep voice pierced her solitude from the hall.

“Oliver! What are you doing here?”

“I heard the alarm. You okay?” he asked, fanning his hand in front of his face and expelling a small cough. Felicity bit the inside of her cheek. Why did he have to show up at her door at the most humiliating moment?

“I’m fine. I was just… baking,” she said.

“I see.”

Her eyebrows shot up as she crossed her arms. “You think you could do better?”

“Like I said, I bake.”

“Really?” She sounded way too hopeful. If her career wasn’t dangling off the edge of a pirate ship plank, she might have turned him away. But she was desperate. How much worse could he be than she was at it?

Her handsome new neighbor shrugged a shoulder. “Sure. Why not?”

“Great. Let me just close the kitchen window, so we don’t freeze to death.”

***

Oliver turned out to be a wizard in the kitchen. Felicity almost felt like she was in the way. Not that he wasn’t trying to include her. After two batch drills, watching him stir and mix – he made the dough from scratch –  she was ready to try it on her own. She cut the cookie shapes and placed them on the cookie sheet. The oven was at the right temperature. Several minutes later, Felicity got distracted by something on her tablet. She would have burned the cookies had Oliver not prompted her to remove them. “Now we let them cool,” he said, hovering close behind her, his hand resting on the small of her back.

“Okay,” she whispered. “What do we do now?”

“You want to try to make cupcakes?”

“After a glass of wine? Or is it too early for that? I’m not like a day drinker or anything. I just--”

“Felicity, it’s okay. It’s after four.” Oliver chuckled. “Let’s celebrate your victory.”

“’Kay.” Felicity smiled then turned to pull out her best wine and poured them each a glass. When she turned around, Oliver snapped a picture of her with his phone.

"What are you?"

"Marking the occasion."

Felicity pressed her lips together, holding back a smile. Oliver grinned. Damn, her heart was beating fast. "Can I see?"

Oliver shook his head. "Later."

"You promise I look at least mildly cute?"

Oliver studied the photo. "At least." He waggled his eyebrows.

Felicity snorted a laugh. Oh, God. She was snort-laughing? She hadn't even started in on the wine. "Let's drink."

The heavy wink he threw her had her nearly melting into the floor. Calm down, woman. He's only a man. She sucked the edge of her lip between her teeth. 

A few seconds later, Oliver and Felicity perched themselves on the two stools that looked into the kitchen from her living room.

“So, Christmas,” said Oliver after a healthy gulp of the pretty decent red she'd selected.

“Actually, I celebrate Hanukkah usually. But I’m here, working. My mom’s in Vegas. I don’t really know anyone else outside the office. Thank you for helping me by the way. It means a lot. I work at Queen Consolidated, and my supervisor is apparently into sweets – cookies and cupcakes specifically, so…” She stopped both her mouth and the waving hand gesture she'd been making to press her lips together. She let out a little breath after a beat. “Sorry. I tend to ramble sometimes.”

“It’s cute. And… I like to hear you talk.”

“Promise? You’re not just saying that.”

He held her gaze for a moment and blinked at a pace that made her shiver. “I promise,” he whispered before clearing his throat. “So, name two of your favorite holiday foods.”

“Can it be one food and one liquid?”

A dry chuckle with a hint of mirth escaped Oliver. “Sure.”

“Latkes and hot chocolate with whipped cream and sprinkles.”

“What color?”

“Red. Red, green, blue…and the gold and silver star kind …all of it for the holidays. Makes me kinda …”

“What?”

“Happy. Even if I’m alone.”

“Well, you’re not alone tonight.”

Felicity grinned. “No, I’m not.”

The cupcakes weren’t as simple as the cookies had been. Oliver made it look, well, like a piece of cake. When it was her turn, she splashed most of the batter on the counter. “I swear, I’m really good at other things,” she lamented as Oliver looked at her with what looked like an adoring twinkle in his eyes. No. He wasn’t looking at her like that. She was just a geeky neighbor he felt sorry for. He went for girls like she’d seen him with that first day. Of course, he hadn’t mentioned her again. He said she wasn’t a girlfriend.

“What happened to your friend from the other night?”

“Jenna?”

Felicity nodded, licking some of the to-die-for batter off her fingers.

“Haven’t seen her since that night. I’ve known her for years. But I’m not in a relationship with anyone. What about you?”

“Uh, no. Not since college.”

Oliver nodded but wasn’t meeting her gaze. Was that somehow bad? She refocused on the baking. She could analyze the minute details of his behavior later.

By the time Felicity finally completed a successful set of cupcakes, taste-test approved by Oliver, her bones ached. “Thank you so much for helping this afternoon…and evening. You really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. I like being in the kitchen.”

Felicity snorted. Oliver frowned. “I don’t mind it. It’s just not my thing. I have other things I’m good at so it’s okay.”

“I could teach you more things…one day. If you wanted.”

“I’ll just stick to what I know. But thanks.”

“No problem,” he said quietly. Felicity hoped she hadn’t hurt his feelings. Cooking just wasn’t her thing. It was mostly because it didn’t excite her. _Eating_. Now, that she loved. “Then maybe I’ll cook for you,” he said. She wasn’t sure if he’d read her mind or if she’d said that out loud. But was he asking her out? No. He was just being neighborly. He was nice and handsome and a catch. But she would not read anything into any of this. She didn’t want to get hurt. He didn’t seem to notice what he said or her reaction to it. “We can decorate and frost the cupcakes together. Then after maybe we could watch a movie. If you want.”

Wow. At the very least, it was obvious he enjoyed her company. “Um, yeah! I mean, yes. Sure. If you want.”

“I do.” They shared grins.

“Okay, I’ll go see what I can pull up on Netflix. Or wait. Do you watch Suits? I need to catch up. That or Game of Thrones. I’m a season behind. Not that you want to watch an entire season of a show you’ve never seen in one night. Unless you have seen it, that is--”

“Whatever you want is fine with me,” Oliver said, stepping into the room with a smile. “As long as I’m with you, I’m good.”

Felicity turned away from him, a blush firing her cheeks. What exactly was this man trying to do to her?

***

Felicity had no idea how it happened, but she awoke close to midnight to a dark apartment with her afghan tucked around her. She blinked her eyes a bit as they adjusted to the darkness. “Oliver?” There was an indescribable coolness to the air that told her she was alone. She sat up, popping a crick in her neck then mashing her fingers into the muscles surrounding it.

When she clicked on the lamp next to her sofa, its soft yellow light filled the room, painting a path to the kitchen where she found her cookies and cupcakes stored neatly in boxes, decorated (with little snowmen and snowflakes) and ready to take to work. She also found two sticky notes taped to the top box. The first read: _You did a great job on these. I’m sure they’ll be a hit. Any time you want to toss around the cookie dough, let me know._ – Oliver

Scribbled on the second was simply: _Consider this my raincheck for our Netflix night._ It was followed by a barely decipherable wink. Was he just being nice or was that him asking her out? Did she even have his number? She could just go knock on his door and thank him for his help. She looked at her wall clock. At 12:06am? Good plan, Felicity. Not to mention, she had no idea which apartment was his. No, she was just going to go to bed, wake up, head to work, and hope she saw him again one day. Yes, that was the logical thing to do. “Sometimes I hate logic,” she muttered as she padded across the kitchen floor and turned out the light.

***

**_December 24, 2012_ **

Oliver was right. Felicity’s cookies and cupcakes were an incredible hit. She felt a little guilty having not done it all herself and taking the credit for their magnificence, but she had worked hard on them, and she felt proud that she’d at least been a part of their creation.

“Felicity, these are amazing,” her supervisor, Hank, raved, biting into his fifth cupcake, green frosting coloring his mustache. “Your review is right after the first of the year, am I right?”

“Yes. January 4th.”

“Well, I certainly look forward to it. Your work has not gone unnoticed, Ms. Smoak,” he finished before being pulled away by his wife to chat with the supervisor from accounting who’d stopped in briefly. “You have got to try these cupcakes, Harriet,” Felicity heard him saying. “Our resident prodigy Felicity Smoak is a wizard in more areas than one.”

 _Frakety-frak-frak-frak._ She really hoped they wouldn’t expect her to do this every year. “Oh, God.”

“The name’s Oliver,” she heard a somewhat familiar voice murmur beside her. She gasped, and whipped around.

“Oliver! What are you doing here?” She felt her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. “How did you find my office?”

“I, uh…” He scratched the back of his neck. 

Before Oliver could answer, Felicity’s co-worker, Byron, slid up beside them, hand extended toward Oliver. “Happy holidays, Mr. Queen.”

“M-Mr. Queen?” Felicity blanched. “As in Oliver Queen?”

Apparently, Oliver did not like the expression on her face. He reached his hand out to touch her shoulder, but she shied away from it. “Felicity…”

“So, you’ve met our secret weapon. Genius at what she does. Genius in the kitchen. Have you tried her cupcakes? They’re phenomenal.”

“Thank the chef here,” she said, pointing her thumb at Oliver.

“I’m sorry?” asked Byron.

“She was kidding,” said Oliver, holding her gaze.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Mr. Queen,” she said.

“Felicity…”

“I think I’ll be heading home.” She’d put in enough face time. She did her cookie and cupcake duty. God. What an idiot she was.

She managed to make it to her office, retrieve her coat, then slip out to the parking garage without anyone stopping her. She’d half-expected Oliver to follow her, but why would he do that? He’d had his kicks, right?

Just after she’d slid into her mini-Cooper and revved up the engine, a set of knuckles wrapped on her window. Oliver’s too gorgeous face and amazing blue eyes appeared on the other side of it.

“Felicity, please. Let me explain.”

His puppy-dog expression caused her to sigh and roll down her window. “There’s nothing to explain. You’re Oliver Queen. I should have picked that up. But you know, you were in the middle of a gentrified building just outside the Glades, so the thought never crossed my mind.”

“It’s my friend Sara’s apartment.”

“Sara Lance?”

“Yes. I’ve been using it since she left town, so I could—”

“Hide from being Oliver Queen? Have random hook ups. I get it.” Felicity sighed. “Look. I’m not mad. I’m just embarrassed, okay? So, can I just go home now?”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I should have told you.”

“It’s okay, Oliver. Happy holidays.”  

Without giving him a chance to respond, Felicity backed her car out of her spot and headed home.

***

**_December 25, 2012_ **

Felicity peeled her eyes open, very aware that it was Christmas morning. The stores would be closed. Families were exchanging gifts all over the city. Families like the Queens. She inched her way into her connecting bathroom to shower and change from her pajamas to a comfy pair of sweats and a t-shirt. A full day of Netflix was definitely on the menu. Maybe some pizza or Chinese food later.

When Felicity settled on her sofa, her mind conjured images of Oliver and his family celebrating around an enormous Christmas tree surrounded by all the comforts of the rich. He’d probably forgotten all about her. The next time he ran into her, he’d make nice most likely, then she’d pass him awkwardly in the hallway and make her way down to her apartment like she had the first time she’d seen him. Everything back in its place – Oliver Queen and Felicity Smoak separate worlds, separate lives.

About three minutes into her wallowing, the doorbell rang. Who’d be visiting her today of all days? And so early, too. Felicity peeled open her door to find a small ice blue envelope decorated with snowflakes with her name inked on the outside. Her eyes darted down the hall, but it was empty – empty save a few other envelopes making a path to the front door of the apartment three units down. Sara’s apartment. _Oh, Google._ Felicity swallowed and opened the first note. It was a recipe for Chicken Cordon Bleu. Felicity crinkled her nose and turned the card over. _This is my favorite meal to cook. I hope you like it, too._

Her heart thudded in her chest. Tingles swirled up her spine. Heat pooled in her belly. _Oliver._ There was no way in hell she wasn’t following his bread crumbs, but she looked terrible. She had bed head and morning breath. That and she was low-key scared out of her mind at the prospect of finding Oliver on the other side of Sara’s door. What if someone came by and picked up the cards? Should she just grab them? Keep them in order? No. She’d just quickly brush her teeth, run a comb through her hair, put on some shoes and grab her purse. She wasn’t one to go out without her purse.

Less than five minutes later, Felicity was back in the hallway picking up a red envelope. Inside was another recipe. This one for butternut squash soup. The back of that card read, _For those rainy nights._ The third envelope was green. Inside, she found a recipe for sweet and sour chicken. The message read, _Better than any take out you’ve ever had_. The next envelope was silver with gold stars on it. Its recipe was for fudge brownies. _Simple, sweet but with so much depth._ _Just like the girl I want to get to know._ Felicity’s breath caught in her throat. She tucked the envelope into her purse next to the others then stepped in front of Sara’s door where the last card lay. It was silver with her name written in gold sharpie. She opened it. The recipe card inside was blank. She turned it over. On the back it said, _My name is Oliver Queen. And I only have one goal: to make you dinner._ Felicity burst out laughing. The cheesiness of it turned her into a ball of giddy goo. Immediately, the door swung open. “You’re here.”

“Who would have ever guessed the _Oliver Queen_ could be such a cornball,” she said, her giggles only just subsiding.

He grinned, a full blush filling his cheeks. “I have my moments. Okay. Actually, this is a first.”

“Oh, really?”

Oliver nodded, his grin not at all fading. “There’s just something about you that…”

She titled her head. “Brings out your inner cornball?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Something like that. Would you like to come in?”

Felicity followed him inside to find the cozy apartment modestly decorated for Christmas. A tree of about six feet sat in the corner, filled with ornaments, tinsel and lights. A couple of Christmas cushions sat on the sofa.

“So, let me get this straight. You plan on cooking me all these meals?”

“If you want,” said Oliver, looking down bashfully for a second.

He was so adorable that Felicity couldn’t resist stepping into his personal space and cupping his cheek. She ran her fingers over his stubble and stroked her thumb along his jaw. “So, Oliver Queen, huh?”

“Felicity, I—”

“Shh…” she whispered before pressing her lips to his. Oliver froze. Felicity pulled back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

He cradled her face in his gloriously large hands, then pulled her back to him. Oliver groaned, slanting his mouth over hers. Felicity whimpered into his mouth. Soon, their tongues tangled as they tasted each other for the first time. Felicity’s hand crept up the soft material of his sweater. She could feel his heart thumping in his chest. After a few seconds, Oliver tore his mouth away and pressed several kisses along her jaw until he reached the shell of her ear. She thought he might take it between his lips, but instead he whispered, “I’ve been wanting to do that since the day I met you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His voice cracked a little.

He pulled her into his arms and held her for a bit. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you my last name.”

“In fairness, I didn’t tell you mine either.”

“But you told me where you worked, and I froze. I didn’t want to ruin things with us. I just felt so incredibly lucky that—”

“My alarm went off?”

“Yeah.” 

Felicity leaned back a little, a shiver tickling up her chest as Oliver brushed a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear. The way his eyes followed the movement. Was he stroking the shell of her ear now? Gah. He was too much. She cleared her throat. “So, I’m assuming you have to go be with your family today.” She tried stepping back, but he held on.

Oliver shook his head. “I was there last night. We exchanged our gifts already. I told them I had some work to do.”

“But what about Christmas dinner?”

“My parents are leaving to go skiing. My sister is already at a friend’s for the day.”

“So much for the image of the Queen family Christmas I had in my head.”

“I think a Smoak-Queen Christmas…"

“A Smoak-Queen Chrismukkah…ish. I mean, Hanukkah ended like nine days ago, but…”

“Oh. Well, I have a surprise planned. I hope it’s okay.” He finally dropped his arms and stepped back. She missed the closeness but his dimpled expression made up for it.

“Don’t tell me? One of your recipes.”

“Nope. Those are for later. Today….” Oliver ran into the kitchen then re-appeared with a plate of potato pancakes with two sauce cups in the center, two forks and two mugs. He sat each on the coffee table in front of Sarah’s sofa.

“Latkes and hot chocolate with sprinkles? You got every color, too.”

“I hope this is okay. I went through about three batches before I got the latkes right. I got the recipe online.”

Felicity dolloped some apple sauce on one and dug in. _Heaven._ “Oliver Queen, I think I’m in love.”

Oliver blushed.

“With your latkes, of course. Not…I mean. I’ll just keep eating.”

Oliver chuckled and kissed her cheek. “Let me get us some little plates.”

Felicity watched Oliver go with a content smile. “A holiday for two,” she whispered. When he returned, they sat knee-to-knee and enjoyed the rest of what would be the first of many holidays together.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are lovely. Comments are magical.


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